Savings And Loan Mess Makes 'Pops' Look Saintly

The massive Lincoln Savings and Loan scandal has renewed my appreciation for Pops Panczko, a simple hard-working old crook.

Throughout his long career, Panczko, now in his 70s, never made any bones about what he did for a living. When he was asked what his occupation was, he always responded: ''I am a teef.''

Which he was. The cops knew it, the judges knew it, and occasionally a jury would agree. And when he did prison time, Pops never whined that he had been framed, that the government was picking on him, or it was all a terrible misunderstanding.

He played by the rules. As a professional thief, he would go out most days and look for something to steal, whether it was a humble crate of cabbage, or a jewelry salesman's sample case.

If he succeeded, he won. If he was caught and convicted, the cops won. What could be simpler?

He lived and practiced his trade in accordance with the old Chicago philosophy: ''Only suckers beef.''

Compare that to what is happening with the Lincoln Savings scandal. The main character is a tall, regal banker, Charles B. Keating Jr., who likes living in luxurious splendor.

The government says that when he bought Lincoln Savings, in California, he began throwing money into high-risk, fast-buck investments.

There wouldn't have been anything wrong if it was his own money. But it was money entrusted to the S&L by depositors. And insured by the government.

Now the government says that Keating made so many bum deals, while living like a king himself, that this might be the biggest single bank flop in history.

By the time the paper wreckage is cleared away, the government says, it will cost the taxpayers about $2 billion. That's almost a ten-spot from every man, woman and child in this country.

The feds once sent Pops to prison for using slugs in telephones. Pops' free phone calls didn't cost every man, woman and child in this country a ten-spot.

And how does banker Keating respond to this? He goes before Congress, invokes the Fifth Amendment, and rides off in a limo.

Then his aides pass out an indignant statement saying that everybody is to blame but Keating. The government is picking on him, Congress is picking on him, and all the troubles are their fault.

He didn't mention the little old ladies who have told how hustlers from Lincoln talked them into putting their savings into junk bonds that flopped, when they thought they were investing in chips of blue.

As far as I know, Pops Panczko never fleeced little old ladies. Even a Chicago ''teef'' has some standards.

Then we have the government's bank regulators, who were supposed to be alert to risky operations such as Keating's.

It appears that some in California were wise to him a long time ago. But they couldn't persuade the Washington desk jockeys who were in charge to get moving.

Now the bank regulators are pointing fingers at each other and saying, ''Your fault, your fault,'' ''Told ya so, told ya so,'' ''Not me, not me,'' ''He did it, he did it.''

And we actually give these people fancy titles, handsome salaries, large offices, clerks and secretaries.

Finally, there are the five senators, who have been dubbed ''The Keating Five.''

It seems that while Keating was being investigated, they wanted to be sure that he wasn't bullied, harassed, picked on or otherwise mistreated by the bank regulators.

So, in Keating's behalf, they took a personal interest and poked their noses into the investigation.

I'm sure that in each of their states, there are many people who are having financial difficulties, whether it is paying the rent and putting food on the table, making car payments or mooching a few coins for a bottle of wine.

But these five senators - Alan Cranston of California, John McCain and Dennis DeConcini of Arizona, Donald Riegle of Michigan and John Glenn of Ohio - were so concerned about a high-living millionaire banker, that they flexed their political clout for him.

How considerate of them. And how generous of Keating to toss a total of about $1.4 million in campaign contributions their way.

So now the Senate Ethics Committee is going to ponder the question of whether all of this was ethical. But do they really have to ask? Even a Chicago alderman would laugh.

If the five senators truly have a commitment to public service, they could best serve the public by immediately resigning their offices and saving the public the cost and hassle of establishing the obvious: By any other name, a fix is still a fix.

Of course, they won't. And the worst that will happen to the negligent bank regulators is that they might have to go find honest work. And it will take years for Keating's mess to be dragged through the courts, and when it is over, he'll probably still be living the high life.

And they put Pops Panczko away for using slugs in a phone? Some things, besides Keating's bookkeeping, don't add up.